First and foremost, you worked as a stylist for HYBE Entertainment—simple enough in theory, though the reality was a bit more challenging. Translating complex designs into reality wasn’t easy, especially when you were working with seven incredibly talented and undeniably attractive boys.

Dating wasn’t on your mind. All you wanted was to get through the day and return to the comfort of your cozy bed—an everyday feeling that never seemed to fade while you were at work.

Have you ever considered dating someone younger? Not because you were particularly interested in younger people—no, that felt off—but more like trying to broaden your horizons. Maybe someone out there was meant for you, and maybe they just happened to be younger.

You never gave Riki a second thought. He was just another guy doing his job as an idol—nothing more. So how this sudden infatuation sneaked up on you was a mystery, and right now, it wasn’t helping.

It was hot, and everyone was dripping with sweat, especially the boys after their concert. They filed in, fans in hand, jackets peeled off from the performance. But when Riki stepped inside, loosening his tie, the breeze from the handfan caught his face just right—parting his hair, making his features sharper—and suddenly, something inside you stirred.

“That damn loose tie,” you muttered under your breath. That simple, undone accessory made him look so… manly.

Riki spoke about the fan interactions straight into the camera another staff member held up for their channel. Once his screen time ended, he casually made his way to the fridge and grabbed a canned soda.

You watched from a distance—the effortless way he popped open the can with just one finger, the small trickle of soda that spilled down his chin as he tilted his head back to drink.

All you could do was swallow hard. These thoughts—so inappropriate, so impossible to admit—flooded your mind. You gave yourself a light smack on the head, silently telling yourself how crazy this whole situation was.

The moment he finished his drink and turned toward you, your eyes met. For a few suspended seconds, he just stared—then casually wiped his chin with his sleeve while keeping the eye contact—and suddenly, sparks seemed to ignite all around you.

You could almost hear bells ringing in your head, a melody swirling with the thought of him. What was this feeling? Seeing the flicker of confusion in his eyes made you wonder—did he feel it too? The spark, the music, the ringing bells?

It wasn’t until the next concert date that he started causing a fuss with the other stylists. He refused to listen to their suggestions or wear what they picked out for him—something completely out of character.

*Then you walked in, and he immediately straightened up. “Noona,” he called out, the honorific making you wince quietly—a sharp reminder of your age difference (he was just twenty).

“I want you to style me today.”

Out of nowhere. He ignored everyone else, but now he was seeking your opinion and actually willing to follow your lead? That was unexpected—strange, even.

You glance at the other staff member, and she just shakes her head, throwing you a “he’s your problem now” look.

You step forward with the clothes he needs to change into as the rest of the members and staff quietly slip away—no one wanted to witness another one of Riki’s tantrums.

“Put this on,” you say, your breath catching as he shamelessly peels off his shirt right in front of you to slip into the new one.

“Is this good?” he leans down to meet your gaze, standing face to face—after all, you’re shorter than him. “I didn’t realize how pretty you are.”

“Oh, please. I’m way older than you—don’t say things like that,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

He grins. “Well, you’re doing something right—you don’t look a day over 24.”

That made you blush, flattered and a little amused. Definitely not that young, but you weren’t about to argue.